


The Opal Beetle

by TheSheMartian



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Another “Vulcan”, Biiiig book, Everybody is in pain, Finding Love, Hurt/Comfort, Huzzah! Resolution, M/M, Non-Canon Star Trek stuff, Original Series, Sex isn’t here yet, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Spock/Kirk - Freeform, Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23762368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSheMartian/pseuds/TheSheMartian
Summary: A dying dimension hopping deity picks up a parallel version of a Vulcan from a planet being sucked through a rip in the universe. These things happen all the time, but Strange Woman teleports to the closest vessel, the Enterprise, and asks for their help...
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Strange Woman

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings! 🖖  
> I’m Martian and this is gonna be a story of mine, written in alternative style (just a warning) inspired by Alice in Wonderland’s peculiar tone. I’m hoping to update once or twice a week, so stick around!

The unknown planet was flushed with red grass and blanketed with a green sky.  
A Vulcan child bent to pluck flowers.  
She had white hair, dandelion skin. The flower died in her hand almost immediately, and she began to weep. Her cries were sonic but quiet to the universe, a tease to her repulsive existence. 

The Vulcan child is named T’Ya. She is a Negative Vulcan, an isolated breed of Vulcan that is completely opposite of the common Vulcan. Not only is she the last of her kind, but the planet she was inhabiting was hurtling towards a dimensional rip. She very much didn’t know any of the happenings of the universe and why trees were being ripped out of the ground, and why she felt the need to hide in a cave, or why in all sanity would she find a woman draped in elegant robes to be inside that cave.  
Now, the most confusing part of this, for T’Ya, was that the woman kissed her forehead and felt her whole body be wrapped around by a warm, safe hand. T’Ya felt oh, so very tiny and rather stiff. My, she felt like a bug.  
Strange Woman then put T’Ya in her pocket, readjusted her shoulders, and became a thin line within the cave. She sent her body into the dimensional rip, the planet being shred like cheese for it was too big to fit in such a tight tear.


	2. Pockets

“She’s going to die, Jim.” McCoy sighed, bringing back his chirping from Strange Woman. She was heaving her entire figure in order to breathe. “She’s got Space Lung. It’s when, well, you inhale too much space debris during extreme labor. She was probably flying through space with quite the speed.”

“Quite the expense of her health, Doctor McCoy.” Spock quipped, catching Kirk’s attention. “How long does she have?” 

“Ah, I say about thirty more minutes. It’s best we keep her comfortable. She’s an unknown alien, most likely one that doesn’t really need a physical form. Readings show that whatever “soul” is inside her is already dealing with the carnage of extreme age. Why, she’s nearly a trillion years old.”

Kirk pressed his lips together, sighing while analyzing Strange Woman.  
“She simply just showed up here, Bones. Poof! You’re telling me a trillion year old entity could do such a thing?”

“We’ve encountered beings plenty more strange, Jim.” Bones said. “I wish I could do more, but I’m a doctor not Father Time.”

“No, no you’re alright Bones. Please, go see to it that others aren’t affected by her presence. Who knows what type of pneumonia she could be carrying.” 

“Yes, sir.” Bones nodded off, giving Spock a glance before heading to the bridge.

The Vulcan and the human stood together, alone with Strange Woman, watching her peaceful, dark face rest. Kirk waltzed over to her, having his thick heels scrape the floor beneath. Spock followed in suit, only on the other side of the bed.

“She’s quite beautiful.” Kirk said, having his thick arms cross over his plump chest. “Hard to believe she was there at the Big Bang.”

“I find that she is a fine specimen to behold. Frankly, it is quite the shame that she is to die before I could learn from her.” Spock replied, admiring the dying soul before them. “I wonder what she could be.”

“Probably a god.” Kirk sounded, pulling a chair for him to sit beside Strange Woman. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

The gentle pursuit of the captain gained Strange Woman but a tiny bit of consciousness. Her eyes began to flicker open, pure white orbs dancing about to take in the scenery. Words played on her lips, trying to communicate what she could through a frozen, chaffed up throat from the space dust. Her head rolled on the onyx black cloud of kinky hair, the color melting into her skin, dazed and rather confused.

“Ah, there you are,” Kirk smiled gently and held her hand. Strange Woman, smiling in return, waving her hand very loosely to the Captain. “Hello to you too, miss. You’re upon the U.S.S Enterprise. I’m Captain Kirk, and this is commander Spock. You teleported onto our ship, right in the middle of the bridge—why, I couldn’t see two inches from my face before looking upon your dress.”

He laughed sadly, brows melting into a concerning bow. She smiled, simply just smiled, beaming really like she understood it all. 

“... You are to die very soon.”

Strange Woman nodded. She knew. 

Spock watched the two converse, his interest peaked as well as whatever little emotion of “bummed out” he had. The Vulcan came closer to Strange, offering his hand to hers. She took it very gently, very weakly. 

“She cannot speak, Captain.” Spock inquired. “I recommend I telepathically communicate with her.”

“Sure, Spock. Go on ahead—Oh?”

Strange slipped her hand from Kirk’s layering over Spock’s. She shook her head, pleading with her ghostly eyes that if he wore to go into her mind, he would surely be hurt. Spock understood her gaze, and lowered to her mouth. Pointed ear, turned to her chocolate lips. 

Her voice was so crackly, so faint. It really did sound ancient, but both men knew her voice would’ve sounded like honey if it weren’t for the crystallized dust forming inside her lungs and throat. But, Spock made out a few crunchy words. 

“Vulcan…. pocket…. beetle… you…. Spock…” 

“What did she say?” Kirk asked, curious and excited. 

“A moment, Captain.” Spock flickered his eyes to his human, then only softly closing them to focus as much as he could to the static Strange spoke. 

“Spock…. Summon…. Vulcan… kiss…”  
Strange Woman then patted her hand upon Spock’s own, letting her body practically deflate into the bed.

“And?”

“One moment.” Spock reached into Strange Woman’s cloak, a pocket stopping her slender fingers from traveling any further down the fabric. A rock, warm like a body, touched his fingertips. The Vulcan grasped hold of the rock, letting it roll into his palm.  
His eyebrows flew into his bangs, having been looking upon a gemstone.

“A beetle carving?” Kirk asked, circling around the bedside and admiring the shiny statue in his commander’s palm. “Why, it’s opal.” 

“She says I must kiss it. Something about summoning. She also mentioned a beetle, plenty more than just an attempt. Her words were quite cryptic, but the beetle stood out the most within her try at Standard.” 

“Miss, try to explain a bit more. Please, so we may grant your wish…” Kirk pressed, having his heart be pulled by the cruelty of this situation. 

Strange only smiled, waved, and snuggled into the bed. Kirk watched, almost stunned. Strange stopped moving, stopped her crackling breathing. The captain gulped.

“She’s dead, Captain.” 

Kirk sighed, a weak beam upon his lips. “What a strange woman. I’ll see to it that she's cast in a good manner.” 

“I’ll inform the doctor.”

“Yes, yes that will be good. Spock, where the nearest M planet?” 

“I’d say, approximately five hours away.” Spock tilted his head, looking over at his distressed captain. A ping of sympathy sending the Vulcan closer to Kirk. “Captain, I will see to it that the Opal beetle is dealt with. I’m assuming you wanting to get to the next M-planet is to bury our friend here. I advise you, Captain, to not dwell on this loss.”

Captain Kirk only looked up to his commander, golden eyes humming with the brink of tears. Spock had noticed the sudden sensitivity to his captain, ever since a week before the dimensional rip had been reported. Kirk had been plenty more emotional, more so on the sad ones. Death has been griping at him for some time now, deaths that were purely out of his hand of control. Spock for one, couldn’t understand the immensity that was hurt, but for it to cripple Kirk in the way it did, when the two were alone, that was all Spock needed to know in order to take precautions to stabilize the captain when he could.  
Like now.  
The Vulcan rested a hand upon Kirk’s shoulder, slipping the beetle into his own pocket, and bringing the blanket laid upon Strange Woman over her relaxed smile, her peaceful face. She was now just a body under a sheet. 

“Dr. McCoy,” Spock opened his communicator, sounding for the medic. “The patient has,” he paused, “passed away. We await your return.”

“On my way.” Bones called back, that static in the machine staining his voice just the same as Strange’s. 

“Spock out.” The tool snapped shut, ending communications all the while watching Kirk’s head swim within those tough hands, hiding his face.  
The lights were starch and headache inducing, making the Vulcan feel as if this was too dramatic for any liking, as if it were a joke. Suddenly, Spock felt like his hand sat on his captain’s shoulder for far too long and retracted it with a shiver. 

“Please,” Kirk mumbled tiredly. “See to it you find out what’s so important about the beetle, Spock. I’ll join you shortly once the doctor arrives and assess her situation.”

Spock stiffened, returning to his stoic nature with a very commanding and tender captain. “Please, do not take this as an insult to your command, but I shall not leave until you agree to join me. She may be dangerous dead if she wasn’t while alive and weak; spores, chemicals, maybe even explosion to her body may be how her race degenerates. It will be extremely unfortunate if you were to go under type of space lung poisoning or otherwise during our newfound puzzle.”

Kirk raised a brow, amused, and had a gentle grin. 

“Captain?” Spock returned the quipped brow, awaiting for the human to follow in his logic. 

An airy chuckle, and the man lifted from his seat. “I’d like to hear more of your hypotheses about my well being, Mr. Spock. I can only guess you’ve got plenty more.” Kirk was already beneath the pointed nose of his science office, his tired eyes seeming to relax. “Thank you.” 

Shoulders slouched, body eased. “Of course, Captain.”

They left Strange Woman with Bones, murmuring within their triangle, and chased farewell.


	3. Them

The beetle lay on the countertop of the lab table.   
It was rather big for a gemstone, but then again it was an obviously carved charm, decorative and accurate. Spock had to admit the object was eye catching and marvelous, a beautiful piece of sculpture. Whether it was Strange Woman that had dismantled the rock into its present figure, or another being, it was impressive. That, and Spock could only assume they did have the Japanese Rose Beetle inhabiting any region outside of Earth’s orbit.   
The Vulcan moved the magnifying glass from overhead the gemstone, having now to view it with naked eyes. The magnification only brought about intense scratches and intergalactic pastels that shined brilliantly beneath its milky shell. 

“I had given this beetle oral application, as well as the Vulcan equivalent, numerous times already.” Spock spoke blunt and robotic as always, leaning into his chair and raising his chin to the captain behind him. “Nothing has happened.”

“They’re called kisses, Spock. Perhaps you need to put some love in it.” Jim smiled upon his thumb where he nibbles at the nail, brows stitched up in concentration, his voice breaking for the moment to get some sorta comedic relief.

“... Captain, permission to speak candidly?” 

“Of course.”

“You are displaying rather vibrant mannerisms to a human under stress. Tell me, why did Strange’s death deal so much damage? We have encountered alien life before her arrival, many plenty more serious as well as dangerous. Many of which did not shy from female representation in the forms they presented themselves to be, sir.” 

“I don’t know, Spock. Something about her… it felt like she knew it all. Y’know? All the questions I had, the questions I had and didn’t know I did. It felt like she could’ve looked at me for a millisecond,” He snapped. “And tell me every minuscule in full detail. Strange… she was otherworldly.”

“I am otherworldly.” 

“Right, of course you and many others are, Mr. Spock. But this, her—Do you understand?”

“... I can understand enough with such a patchy description, Captain. You mean that, somewhere in your self-consciousness, she was an omnipresent celestial being that could have written the manuscript to every little problems’ solution?” 

Jim nodded like a child, awaiting for the rest of the green man to put words to his lacking with hands reaching. 

“... I perfectly comprehend you, Captain. You should not worry for your sanity.” Spock raised a hand to settle the flustered human’s roaring thoughts. 

Jim huffed. 

“I, too, had a sense of “otherworldly” from our passenger, Captain. It was maternal, I believe; nurturing, explicitly intimate as well as easily succumbing.” The Vulcan’s eyes flickered to the gem. “And I sense a kin to the beetle.” 

“Mr. Spock, when the good doctor and I tell you “you’re as expressive as a rock”, it’s only jokes.” Jim muttered, his hands now buried into the pits of his wide arms, closing in to the alien that dwarfed in the chair he sat in. 

“It is only a “joke”, when it is funny.” Spock intercepted and took the beetle in hand. “I meant that there is already a present bond from me to this sculpture. I have never met anything like this in my entire time living, and yet I sense familiarity and kinship. I should describe it by your terms… it is the feeling you get when you meet a distant cousin. I understand humans have awkwardness amidst people who have rarity in presence, but it does not mean you do not have preexisting memories with the other. There is… family, and that is why you still managed not to dismiss the attendance to that cousin. Does that make a legible description for your digestion?”

“Uhm,” Jim’s flushed lips pressed to one another, letting it mouth off like a mute fish, trying to find the right words. “Sure.” 

“I am pleased.” Spock then, with the beetle carefully cradled in his long fist, he stood from the chair and presented the figurine to the captain. “I request you spend time with them.”

“Them”?” Jim choked in an airy laugh, watching Spock’s schooled expression for any representation of humor. Alas, there was none. “What do you mean by “them”, Spock? Is it an adrogynous sentient?” 

“I believe it to be. With that theory at hand, and without risking my mind to explore something once attached to Strange, who presented the dangers of delving into her mind, I can assume appropriately that there is somebody inside that rock.”

“... Wow.”

“Indeed. Now, it is our duty to help them escape.”

“But we’ve only got so many clues, Spock! Broken Standard words all chopped up by a dying alien stranger.”

“Then, I recommend two options; we either abandon to grant Strange Woman’s death wish and pursue forward in ignorance,”

“... Or?”

“Crack the case.” 

“Such casual words, Mr. Spock.”

The Vulcan quipped a brow, staring down at his superior with an amused glint to his otherwise dull, serpentine eyes. Spock admires the way Jim’s face would twist and turn, changing here and there whilst his emotions played so clearly across his hazel eyes. The Vulcan was illuminating by the time Jim gave in and accepted the beetle. 

“Fine, I’ll babysit them for the rest of the night. Are you equipped to work off your shift, Spock?” Jim asked, already handling the beetle drastically differently from when it was but a stone. Now, it became more of a child. 

“Of course, Captain.” 

“Then you and I shall regroup afterwards. I’ll invite Bones and we’ll all try to figure this out, alright?” 

“Are you addressing me or the Opal?” Spock asked, leaning towards the Captain to capture Jim’s motherly whispers and mutters. Spock evaluated that Jim had no clue the human was doing such a thing.

Jim, gobsmacked, pursed his lips and sneered to the pointy-eared individual. He couldn’t tell if Spock was playing around, but if he was, then how rude. “Make it both of you, Mr. Spock. Who knows if the beetle needs some comfort as well.”

“Affirmative, Captain.” Spock retracted and gave Jim a subtle nod in salute. 

The two men made their way out the door of the science lab. Spock made his way back to the bridge with a puzzling drum at the side of his flag figure. He placed a curious hand over the throbbing, silently startled to the pace of which his heart was beating. From the beating, came the usual flustering of clover to his face and the tips of his ears. This was a usual escalation whenever he’s been in close, lonely proximity to his captain. But for the duration of his venture into the beyond, Spock has chopped it all up to emotional dilemma and leakage in his discipline. However, most recently ever since Strange Woman came to the ship, Spock’s been adhering to minute mannerisms enveloping from Jim in a newer adoration. 

Spock fears that the mystery of the Opal Beetle will answer other questions before they’ve been asked.


End file.
